Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Darryl chuckled. “Mrs. Maddox, Lord Ashworth’s not coming back.”
“He is,” Meredith said. “I know he left, but he’ll be back. Eventually.” Hopefully before another fourteen years passed. But no matter how long it took, she’d be waiting. Call it destiny. Call it faith. Whatever it was, she seemed to have caught the brain-addling contagion from Rhys, and she didn’t want to be cured.
“No, Mrs. Maddox.” Darryl’s voice was strangely confident. “He isn’t coming back.”
Meredith turned her neck slowly. “What do you mean?”
His left eye twitched as he gave her a placid smile. “He won’t trouble this place anymore. I’ve made certain of it. Buckleigh-in-the-Moor is free of the Ashworth line. Forever.”
Her heart began to beat a little faster, though she bade herself to stay calm. This was Darryl Tewkes talking. Surely this was just another of his wild, imagined tales. She stepped down from the crate, and her feet hit the floor with a hollow thud. “Darryl, what are you saying?”
“I fixed matters for you. For everyone.” He picked up a length of lace and began folding it. “Aren’t you pleased?”
“No. No, I’m not pleased.”
“Now, now. I know you’re an independent woman and you like to do things your way, but you mustn’t be angry with me, Mrs. Maddox. He left me no choice. We tried to give him the suggestion to leave, but the man can’t take a hint. First the torches didn’t work, and neither did moving his rocks about. Tried pitching a stone at him, and that didn’t work either.”
“That was you?”
Meredith was aghast. When Gideon had awoken this afternoon, the two of them had shared a pot of tea and a lengthy conversation. Among other things, he’d sworn he wasn’t responsible for Rhys’s injury that night at the ruins. Since he had no reason to lie about it now, she’d concluded the whole thing must have been an accident.
Evidently she’d concluded wrong.
Through sheer force of will, she kept her voice even. “Darryl, what did you do to Lord Ashworth? Tell me this instant.”
“I didn’t do anything to him. Let’s just say I gave Mr. Bellamy’s carriage a bit of special attention.”
Meredith gasped. “Mr. Bellamy’s carriage? But … but Cora went with them!” Hadn’t Darryl been half in love with the girl? Every male in the village was half in love with the girl.
“Oh, you mean the harlot?” He shook his head, tsking softly. “She seemed nice enough at the beginning, but she showed her true colors in the end. We’re better off without her, Mrs. Maddox. The Three Hounds isn’t that sort of inn.”
She could only stare at him, transfixed with disbelief.
“Do you know what I wonder?” His little smile crawled over her skin. “I wonder if he’ll truly haunt us when he’s dead. I hope he does. The travelers would like that. I’ll have to change my story a bit, but that’s all right. What do you think, Mrs. Maddox?” he asked, moving toward her. “Which sounds better? ‘The Phantom Lord’? Or ‘The Ghostly Baron’?”
“Neither,” she said, stepping back. A floorboard creaked. Her fingers tightened around the sewing scissors in her hand. “Don’t come any closer. You’re frightening me.”
“They’re just stories, Mrs. Maddox. And it’s only me. You know me.”
“No, I don’t think I do.”
“Don’t be angry.” He moved closer. “I did it for you. For us. We were doing well for ourselves until Lord Ashworth came back. Bringing his fancy London friend and that harlot around, making trouble for the whole village. He tore up the tavern, tried to take you away.” Darryl gestured angrily. “I couldn’t watch him destroy the Three Hounds, Mrs. Maddox. I’ve worked too hard for that place.”
He’d worked too hard? “Darryl, you fool. No one’s worked harder for that place than I have. And I’m telling you, Lord Ashworth’s return was the best thing to ever happen to Buckleigh-in-the-Moor. The best thing to ever happen to me. How dare you, you …”
Despite all her resolve to be strong, Meredith began to tremble. Her eyes fluttered closed, and horrid possibilities flashed behind them. Rhys always claimed to be indestructible, but no man was immortal. What if Darryl had somehow managed to …
No.
She opened her eyes, and she knew. She just knew, with a profound, bone-deep certainty, that everything was going to be fine.
“You’re wrong, Darryl. Lord Ashworth is coming back. Not as a ghost or a phantom, but alive and whole.”
“Now, Mrs. Maddox, you’re not listening …”
“No, I’m not. I’m telling you, he’s coming back. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he’s standing behind you right now.”
Darryl froze. He gulped loudly. His eyelashes danced a wild jig as he turned by slow degrees, then tilted his head up.
And up.
And up, all the way to Rhys’s waiting glare.
“Boo.” With a lightning-quick motion, Rhys grabbed Darryl by the throat. The younger man squirmed and sputtered, clawing in vain at Rhys’s grip.